


If You Need It (Do It For Me)

by youcallherhephanie



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Billy Hargrove Is in Love, Fluff, Halloween prompt hello, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Vampire! Steve, very quickly too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-24 05:43:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21094337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youcallherhephanie/pseuds/youcallherhephanie
Summary: Suffice to say, Billy’s neighbour was weird.Not the usual type of weird; you didn’t catch him smelling someone’s hair or lingering in an alleyway like a creep. No, he wasn’t weird weird, but there was something off about the guy.Whenever he was coming back from his morning runs, up in the early morning when the sun just barely peaked over the city, Billy’d see the guy walking through the apartment building. Sometimes, they’d bump into each other when collecting their mail, when using the elevator. It was always a nod, a hello from Billy and a terse smile from the guy - Harrington, he’d found out from the group of grannies who lived in the building. That was where their interactions left.But maybe things were in for a change.





	If You Need It (Do It For Me)

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off of a harringrove Halloween prompt over on tumblr! The prompt was _vampire_ and I kinda just went from there.
> 
> Enjoy!

Suffice to say, Billy’s neighbour was weird. 

Not the usual type of weird; you didn’t catch him smelling someone’s hair or lingering in an alleyway like a creep. No, he wasn’t _weird_ weird, but there was something off about the guy.

Despite being neighbours for over a year now, Billy didn’t see him all that often.

And maybe that’s why he always caught his attention when he _did_.

Whenever he was coming back from his morning runs, up in the early morning when the sun just barely peaked over the city, Billy’d see the guy walking through the apartment building. Sometimes, they’d bump into each other when collecting their mail, when using the elevator. It was always a nod, a _hello_ from Billy and a terse smile from the guy - _Harrington_, he’d found out from the group of grannies who lived in the building. That was where their interactions left. 

Billy’d noticed the guy kept to himself mostly, would hole himself up in his apartment for days on end. Being right across from Harrington’s apartment, he’d found that the guy was dead silent. No noise, sound, bump - nothing. Sometimes, Billy forgot he had a neighbour on his floor. But then, there’d be the moments where he’d catch the guy making his way into his apartment, late at night with the sound of jangling keys, both of them paused at their doors. 

Sometimes, Harrington didn’t acknowledge him, would hurry by him without a glance. Other times, he’d catch Billy’s eyes and tense, face twisting as though there was a bad smell. And while Billy knew he wasn’t the nicest guy ‘round the block, he prided himself on the fact that he smelt nice; wouldn’t buy the expensive soap from the shop down the street if he didn’t.

So, in Billy’s opinion, Harrington from across the hall was weird. And maybe a little insulting with his awkward scuffle whenever Billy was near. It was fine though. Billy knew the guy didn’t want to be near him, and he could respect a person’s need for personal space - if only with a lot of restraint.

So seeing Harrington so soon, months after their most recent interaction, left Billy feeling out of his depth.

It was hot in Cali, had been warmer than usual that week considering it hadn’t yet reached Summer. The fan in his apartment had broken down, most of his loose clothing was dirty and Billy was bored out of his _mind_. That’s how he found himself laying in his apartment complex’s laundromat, shirtless and sweaty, waiting as his clothes washed and tumbled around in the machines.

People very rarely came into the laundromat these days, especially so late at night. Meaning, Billy was all by his lonesome and more than welcome to sing along to the songs blasting out his phone, arms hooked behind his head in a comfortable position. He didn’t hear the sound of a door opening, the footsteps that entered afterwards.

At the sound of another washing machine being used, Billy put a pause to his music. It was Harrington, _neighbour_ Harrington, guy-who-acts-like-Billy’s-a-bad-smell Harrington. From his position, Billy could see the guy was trying hard not to look at him, to focus on his task and most likely, run back to the safety of his apartment. He watched as he put his clothes to a wash, the lines of his back growing more and more tense with each passing second.

Billy smiled.

Tonight, unfortunately, Harrington had caught Billy when he was bored out of his mind. Screw not having some fun with the guy.

“Harrington.” Billy drawled, watching as the boy turned to leave. He stopped at the sound of his name. “Right?”

Harrington turned back and met his stare. For the first time in his life, Billy was stunned with just how _breathtaking_ the guy was.

He’d never actually noticed how good-looking he was - not when he’d always turned away too quickly from Billy. Not when his _ridiculously_ voluminous hair somehow always managed to curl into his face.

Seeing it with clarity now - the large, dark eyes, the lips that were pulled into a tight smile, the nose that scrunched up at him - left Billy feeling a little breathless. His skin was pale, and Billy could make out the scatter of dark moles all over his body. Wanted to trace each dot with his hands.

“Yeah.” Harrington’s voice was smooth and even, and Billy felt just about like dying at the fact that he hadn’t ever heard him talk before. He watched as the guy shoved his hands into his pockets. “That’s me.”

Billy hummed, couldn’t help but try and get comfortable as he looked at him. “That a first name or…?”

“No, no. It’s Steve.” Harrington- Steve took a step forward, face unsure, twisted and pinched. He looked like this was the last place he wanted to be. Billy grinned. “You’re…?”

“Billy.” He introduced himself, picking himself up from his spot and stretching his arms out above his head, smiling at how Steve’s eyes traced the movement. God, _the benefits of being shirtless and buff_. “Billy Hargrove. We live across each other.”

“Yeah.” Steve turned his head away. He was biting down on his lip, hard, shoulders bunched up. “I know. I’ve seen you around.” 

Something about the way Steve said it with such bitterness made a wisp of glee curl up in Billy’s stomach. “Shame we haven’t chat before. How long you been living here?” 

Something of a sardonic smile made its way onto Steve’s face. “It’s been a few years now. You?” 

Billy sat atop one of the washing machines, hands braced on the edges. “Been a year by now, pretty sure. Something about the smell here makes it difficult to move. Can’t find it anywhere else.” 

Steve nodded along, a dazed out expression glossing over his eyes as he stared at Billy. The attention was cute, and the embarrassed look on Steve’s face once he snapped himself back to reality made Billy grin. 

“No. You can’t.” Looking back at him, Steve gave him a nod. His hair flopped with the movement. He gulped and Billy watched the movement of his throat. “I’ll see you around.” 

The brunet made his way out of the laundromat, hands raking aggressively through his hair. He was cute. Enough so that Billy shouted before he left, “I hope so.” 

* 

The thing about their last interaction was that now, Billy wanted to see if he could catch Steve around the complex whenever he could. Peering around, hoping for the sight of big, brown hair— waiting an extra second in the elevator. Hell, he even stayed on top of his laundry - went to the laundromat as much as he could on the chance he’d run into the guy. 

But in all of his lack of successes, Billy had come to accept that Harrington, in all his mystery and cute doe-like eyes, didn’t go out much. He left it at that, didn’t go around looking for him anymore. Couldn’t bother at the thought that he was looking for nothing. 

But it was on a sunny afternoon that Billy saw Steve again. 

He sat laid on his couch, book tucked into his lap, cigarette dangling from his lips. The stereo was playing music, the windows open with the hope that a breeze would sift through. The fan was still broken. 

There was a knock on his door. 

Glancing away from his book, Billy pulled the book away and made his way to the door. His shirt was the loosest he owned, the heat sticking it to his chest. He’d brushed his hair into a bun that morning, the unkept curls now hanging in his face. 

He yanked the door open and was surprised at the sight of Steve. Billy leaned against the doorway. 

“Harrington.” 

“Billy.” Steve looked unsure from where he stood, hair flopping into his face more than usual. 

“What can I help you with, amigo?” Billy smiled. It was refreshing, seeing Steve. Like a breath of cool air in the stifling heat. Steve peered into Billy’s apartment, wincing at the bright light from the windows. He cleared his throat. 

“Do you have any eggs?” 

Billy blinked, surprised. “Eggs?” 

Steve looked like he was about to laugh. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Yes, eggs. Like from a chicken.” 

Billy blinked some more at him. “You’re asking if I have eggs.” 

“Yes.” 

Regaining his footing, he couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, I got eggs Harrington. You need some?” He was already making his way back into his kitchen, throwing a look over his shoulder at Steve. He was leaning against the door ledge where Billy had just been, looking around curiously at his apartment. “How many?” He called. 

Steve snapped his attention to him. “Uhh, three?” 

Billy picked the eggs and brought them over to Steve, grin wide. “You don’t sound too certain there, pretty boy. You sure you came _just_ for the eggs?” 

Okay so, maybe Billy kind of _wished_ that Steve would pick up on the implication beneath his words. It wasn’t like Billy would deny it. The guy was hot; cute, in the way he scrunched his nose. His floppy hair made Billy’s heart clench, and the guy’s voice did all kinds of things to Billy. It was a lot. 

And Steve, he looked like a deer caught in headlights. His lips parted almost subconsciously, and Billy - because he _is_ Billy - couldn’t help but stare at them for a moment too long. When he flickered his gaze back up to Steve’s, he smiled kindly. 

“You sure can carry these by yourself? Or do you want me to come over and help?” 

Steve blinked and the lost look that had taken over him was gone in an instant. He shook his head and coughed, ran a hand through his hair. It made the ends stick up even more and Billy was all for it. 

“No- no. I got it. Thanks, I’m… I’m just making pancakes, and I didn’t know I ran out ’til I was halfway through the batter. And I can’t just go outside when it’s- when I’ve got stuff cooking. So… thanks.” 

Billy lived for the smile Steve offered him. 

“No problem, pretty boy.” He leaned against the doorway, head cocked and arms crossed. He winked, threw all subtlety out the window. “Anytime.” 

Throat bobbing around a swallow, Steve shuffled away into his apartment, closing the door as soon as he was in. Billy smiled at the now-closed door. 

So maybe Harrington _did_ leave his apartment sometimes. 

* 

Harrington, from then on, would knock on his door every so often, a couple of days a week, asking after some ingredient or advice on how to fix a leak. Billy couldn’t help but find amusement in the brunet’s attempts at holding a conversation, at trying to find ways to be with Billy. 

Billy wasn’t blind. He knew Steve was at the very least _interested_ in him. The feeling was more than reciprocated. 

And he didn’t mind seeing Harrington, opening the door to find his bashful face and shy smile. 

It was a late afternoon, the sun gone already. A soft breeze sifted through Billy’s windows. He didn’t jump at the knock on his door. Switching the stove off from where he’d been cooking, Billy walked to the door. He ran a hand through his curls, couldn’t help but want to appear _good_ for who he knew was on the other side. 

He opened the door and yup— there he was. Harrington - in his favourite hoodie Billy’d found out through their brief conversations - threw him a smile. 

That was another thing. After having increased their interactions, Harrington had grown more and more confident around Billy. Enough so that, he would flash him a smile here and there, throw back a remark, go along with Billy’s games. 

But he always kept his distance. Kept himself at the edge of Billy’s doorway, never a step further into his apartment. 

Maybe that’s what would change tonight. 

“Hey,” he greeted him, stepped back from the door. “I got dinner cooking. Come in.” 

Steve peered at him from the door, big eyes wide almost cartoonishly. “Uh, you sure?” 

“Don’t sweat it, Harrington. I got enough.” Billy gestured to his couch as he made his way back to the stove. “Make yourself comfortable.” 

Steve made his way in, closed the door and toed his shoes off. He looked small in his hoodie. Billy went about getting drinks around. “You want a beer?” 

Steve wrinkled his nose. “I don’t drink.” 

“Suit yourself.” Billy shrugged. He pushed around the kitchen, stacking away dishes and taking swigs of his beer, every so often checking in on the oven on his dinner. 

There was a long pause of silence between them, Billy focused on his task and Steve, doing whatever Steve was doing. Turning back, he found him watching him from where he sat on the kitchen bench. 

He held an empty mug in his hands, head was cocked to the side, lips parted in focus. He looked soft in the dim lighting of Billy’s apartment. There was a flutter in his stomach, seeing Steve like this, bundled up and relaxed in his space. 

Billy smiled at him, waggled his brows at him. “See something you like, Harrington?” 

Steve faced him, and Billy couldn’t help but shiver at the almost-too-sweet smile that donned his face. Maybe it was the lighting, maybe it was his imagination, but Billy couldn’t help the thought that Steve’s incisors suddenly appeared longer than normal. 

“I do.” 

Billy eased himself back against the counters, hips leaning against the edge. He coughed a laugh. “Confident now, huh? You’re in a whole new element.” 

“_Billy_.” Harrington, stared at him, eyes dark and voice almost a whisper. “You have no idea…” 

Billy hummed, didn’t move as Steve slid off from where he sat. Watched him as he stepped forward. “No idea…?" 

“_God_.” There was something ironic with how Steve said it, when he looked so disheveled. So out of it. Billy again, couldn’t help the thought that his teeth looked uncharacteristically long. Couldn’t help thinking how Steve had switched so quickly from soft to borderline dangerous. “You have no _idea_ how good you smell.” 

“I... what?” In all the outcomes this could’ve taken, Billy hadn’t expected this. “I _smell_-?” 

Steve nuzzled along his jaw now. Billy’s breath quickened, heartbeat pounding in his ears. “So good.” The words were traced over his jugular. 

There was a moment where Billy didn’t know if what was happening was actually _real_. If he’d somehow imagined the zero to a hundred change in his night all by himself. If he was simply dreaming that Steve was here, nosing at his neck and murmuring soft words to him. 

“Steve...” 

There was a faint drag of teeth over the point of contact between his shoulder and neck. Billy’s breath hitched. It was— maybe he’d had this completely wrong. Steve looked up at him, the dark in his eyes, the glint of _something_ so strong it made Billy swallow. 

Carefully, almost reluctantly, he moved his head back, tipped so that it bared the skin of his neck. Showed it off in display. There was something oddly addictive in the way Billy didn’t entirely understand, yet knew exactly what he was doing. And if it was anything to go off of Harrington’s expressions, he’d assume he’d made some sort of miracle out of this. 

He gasped at the feel of soft fingers tracing over his skin. “It won’t hurt.” 

Billy stared into Steve’s eyes; now swallowed by his pupils completely. They no longer held the soft edge to them he’d grown to adore. He smiled and breathed out. 

“Do it.” 


End file.
